


Trip Arm

by boardwalk



Category: One Piece
Genre: Ace curses like a pirate, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Strange places for strange headspaces, The boys demonstrate how not to handle a problem, soft angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 08:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19787224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boardwalk/pseuds/boardwalk
Summary: Ace's head is a strange place to be. Picture a train with no conductor and the tracks are missing but the train's still chugging along at Mach speed. In the presence of A Problem, the train can also jump to the most unimaginable and unlikeliest of conclusions.Like the train, this metaphor's going nowhere. The story's about affection deprivation and how to seriously not handle the situation.





	Trip Arm

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, this was supposed to be Day 2 for saboaceweek, the prompt is Alone Together, but the fic got away from me so idk if this follows. What's new, amiright?

He's not an affectionate person by any means.

  
Ace has his reasons. For the longest time as a kid, he's avoided any kind touching that didn't involve medical aid or violence. Growing up with bandits who wanted nothing to do with him and a crappy grandpa whose only love language is beating the shit out of him would do that to anybody.

  
But there are times where he finds himself welcoming the attention. Willing it, almost. A victorious high five from his crew. A reassuring clap on the shoulder from his new family. An overzealous hug from a troublesome rubber boy whose arms would wrap and coil around him like he's fitting multiple hugs in one.  
  
Then there's the special kind he craves the most; the kind that’s warm and soft like worn leather under the sun.

The very same that’s too busy scritch-scratching on parchments to pay him any mind.

“Are you done yet?”

“Not yet."

  
He hasn't touched him at all today.  
  
In hindsight, Sabo isn't terribly touchy either. Not in the way their little brother is or how normal people are. No, he hands out touches like he stores his fucks, like they’re all in a barrel and he only has few to give. Except the barrel doesn’t run dry with Ace.

Sabo has his reasons, too. What with snooty parents and their duplicitous affections, and potentially malicious strangers at the dump, it’s a wonder how easily they made contact with each other. Or rather, how Sabo connected with him.

It’s probably in the effortless way he reaches out to him. No precautions or pretenses, no rhyme or reason, only because he wants to or to remind himself that Ace is still here. In turn, Ace is reminded that he exists. That’s more than anyone ever gave him. But over the years, it’s evolved into something more profound than simple being. Something that he’s not gonna get into because he isn’t made to ponder about the sappy stuff. That’s Sabo’s job.

Speaking of which.

“Almost done?”

“No.”  
  
Back to the problem he has now.  
  
He understands that Sabo has to bring his work with him sometimes. It's the price they pay to see each other. Really, Ace doesn't mind spending a couple of hours waiting for him to finish. As long as they're together it doesn't matter. But it's strangely impersonal today, the way he’s intensely focused on his work and waves off any attempt at conversation.

Ace sullenly remembers how he leaned in for their customary, we’re-behind-closed-doors kiss only to graze his cheek when Sabo brushed past him to get to the desk, slinging his coat over the chair.

“Sorry but I have to finish this, shouldn’t take long,” he said curtly, then he rolled up his sleeves, parked his ass on the seat, and went at it.  
  
That was three hours ago, he sighs noisily. Maybe if his name was Paperwork, it’ll be his turn to be on the desk and worked on.

Catching a glimpse at the sun peaking high in the sky, he shifts his attention back on the hunched figure. Perhaps Ace is a little antsy, but all this silence is making him hyper aware of Sabo’s every move. His nimble fingers deftly unknotting his neck tie, then running through the curls of his hair. From time to time, he’d take a moment to stretch and he’d get a nice view of those muscles moving beneath his see-through white shirt. It’s annoying, honestly. He’s taunting him with what he can’t touch and can’t have at the moment.

An impressive crack of the neck has him whistling. Whatever he’s brought back must be important. It’s probably why he’s so tense.

Then an idea lights up in his head. It’ll be like hitting two birds with one stone.

Quietly, he approaches him and rests his hands on his shoulders. Sabo throws a glance his way like he’d forgotten he was there. Ace musters a non-assuming smile.

When the other returns his attention to his work, he starts rubbing his palms over the broad expanse of his back, slowly moving up and down his shoulder blades. Beginning with soothing circles, he gradually warms up his fingers and then presses them on the usual knots.

This is the part where he turns into putty in his hands. Instead, Sabo hisses, recoils out of his grasp, and swipes blindly at where his fingers were.

“Stop that.”

He blinks.

Okay.

Okay, then. He’ll just. Just go wait over there.

Ace returns to his waiting spot, tries to ignore that he feels like he’d been reprimanded.

Well, he concedes, it was kinda his bad. No use bothering a man deep in work. He’s been in a similar situation himself as both captain and commander. Desk work’s boring and he only does it so he wouldn’t have to do it later. He’d hate it too if he was on a roll. But it was different because it was Sabo and Sabo didn’t care if it was Ace bothering him.

Swallowing thickly, he remembers that Sabo used to beg him for massages and would sing his praises whenever he complied. When did that change.

It’s gone silent again, except for the squeak of his shoes on the floorboards. He takes them off for lack of a better thing to do.

They’re not going anywhere, it seems.

Time passes. It bears its weight on Ace’s mind like the empty air from the dodged kiss and the small pinch of his knuckles from where they were smacked away.

Abruptly, the chair screeches on the wood, and he springs up.

The papers are piled and abandoned, finally completed. Standing next to it is Sabo, wiping his face on his sleeve. His gaze follows his hands as they unfasten the belt and pull his vest over his head. They don’t get the chance to work on his shirt because Ace is instantly there, catching the buttons in his thumbs and capturing his mouth before he could complain.

“Whoa,” Sabo says against insistent kisses. “Someone’s eager.”

“I’ve been patient.”

And a tiny bit desperate, he concedes, but the wait and the quiet had been dissolving him into a puddle of nervous want. The strange, uncertain denial has him needing the attention.

“H-hey.” His voice hitches as he nips at his neck.

Sabo holds him at the hips, resistance falling apart under his tongue. Whatever he has to say is covered up by wavering moans and Ace makes sure it stays that way. He’s fixated on his hands and his fingers and they’re on him now, steady but not pulling, touching but not really. The leather is getting in the way.

Yanking at the material, he snaps, “take them off.”

So he has a minor agenda against those gloves, sue him. Next on the list is the belt.

“What’s gotten into you?”

_Touch me_ , he demands silently.

“Wanna find out?”

Without difficulty, the belt comes apart. It rattles on the floor as they fall into bed.

The afterglow fades too quickly.

Panting, he rubs at his chest where the knot of discomfort has grown bigger than before. An emptiness remains where they’ve collided under the guise of ardor and zeal.

Ace has a sneaking suspicion that Sabo wasn’t all that into it. Though, looking at the mess on his stomach, he was into it enough to get off. But even then, the act of it was missing their usual fervor. It sends him into a spiral of doubt.

Biting his lip, he glances at Sabo who is busy concealing the ruddiness of his face with his elbow.

“Good?”

“Hmmgh,” he groans and turns away.

It’s sweltering. The top of his neck and shoulders are covered with splotches of pink and layered with a sheen of sweat. He’s got the shape of his back memorized from all the aimless staring and wondering.

He’s trying very hard not to think of why Sabo isn’t into it, why he didn’t say anything, why he hasn’t said anything the whole day. What’s up with the rejected kiss and the massage, did Ace screw up without knowing it because he doesn’t know why he’s being ignored otherwise.

Or maybe he really should stop thinking about it.

Scrubbing at his face, he forces his lungs to steady. It’s nothing, he’s overthinking it.

Lost in his head, he misses the weight that keeps him grounded; the one who’s laying on the other side of the bed and decidedly not on top of him.

Crossing naval mines seemed easier than this, he notes apprehensively.

He pushes through anyways, rolling through the space and slinging an arm around him. Ace barely puts his cheek on his shoulder and he felt more than heard the discontented huff before he’s shrugged off for the third time.

The words burst out of his chest like a ricochet, impossible to hold back. “Look, if you don’t want me around, can you just say it to my face?”

Sabo starts at the sudden hostility. “What?”

“What is up with you?”

“You’re asking me, you’re the one yelling. What the hell is your problem?”

He knows he’s being loud but he’s done with keeping quiet. If shouting gets his attention, then he’ll get his answers and the shittiness of it all can finally stop.

“You wanna know what my problem is, I’m trying to figure out why you’re being such a dick today.” He grabs him by the wrist. “If you have something to say to me then say it already.”

“Oh, I’m the one being a dick?”

The worst part of knowing each other intimately in both body and mind is how easy it is to get under each other’s skin. They’re equals in many ways including temperament. Whereas Ace’s anger is explosive and wild, Sabo’s is icy and piercing, and no less intense.

Sabo is also far from being a pushover so when Ace gets in his face, he bites back.

“I am literally minding my own business here. You’re the one coming on to me, so quit being so damn weird,” he says with startling vitriol, wrenching away from him.

His mouth shuts fast, teeth clicking closed as he swallows down the bile threatening to rise. Weird, huh. That’s a blunt way of saying that his touch is sorely unwelcome. The evidence lays in the emptiness of his hand, the finality of it all.

Unvoiced shouts die down to a sharp whisper, fury tempered by bitter hurt. “Fine.”

The springs of the mattress protest heavily as he clambers out. He’s tearing through the room, picking up his belongings and hastily putting his clothes on because he can’t last another second here.

“Where are you going?”

He doesn’t answer.

Since he’s such a nuisance and only interrupted Sabo’s ‘business,’ he wonders why he bothered waiting. If this is all he gets, the cold shoulder and the rejection, then it’s time to hightail it out.

Ace knows when he’s not wanted. It’s not a foreign concept by now. But the thought that Sabo of all people doesn’t want him makes him so physically sick to the stomach that he might just throw up if he stays here any longer.

Shoving his feet into his shoes, all he’s missing is his hat. Except Sabo’s beaten him to it and is holding it out of his reach.

“Give it.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’re what’s wrong!”

Like a child, he lashes out. He thought he’s grown out of that senseless rage but all the safety harnesses come off when the other’s involved. Sabo has a way of making him feel like a child again- all small and insignificant.

But no, he’s better than that, he can’t let Sabo win that over him. Ace shakes his head and pushes away that five year old kid.

He tries again. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Avoiding you?” Sabo repeats, incredulous. “How could I, we’ve been together the whole day.”

The surprise in his voice only serves to piss him off even more.

“Have we? ‘Cause it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.” Distraught, he can't look at him in the eye for fear of Sabo not understanding or not caring. “Every time I come near you, you move away like you don’t want me here. And it’s not like we talked, either. I can’t read your mind so if I did something wrong to make you angry or upset then just tell me so I can fix it!”

Sabo’s staring at him with severity, the gears in his head working and picking apart at what he said. The seconds tick by, and Ace is about to walk out until suddenly, the intensity blinks away like he’s connected the dots.

“Wait, are you seriously mad because I didn’t want to cuddle with you?”

The blunt inquiry has Ace floundering. That wasn’t exactly the problem but it was part of the problem and he doesn’t know how to argue with that since it’s technically true but why did he have to say it like that.

“That’s not what I- but you wouldn’t-! You keep pushing me away, and you won’t tell me what’s wrong- stop laughing!”

He wasn’t outrightly laughing at him but he could see the beginnings of one in the way his lips twitch and how his exasperated sigh sounded like he was hiding a chuckle.

“Ace, I’m not angry or upset. It’s hot and you’re literally made of fire.” He rubs the side of his neck where the hickies have faded. “Kinda hard to get in the mood when I feel like I’m trapped in a furnace.”

Is that all or is that a lie, because he finds it hard to believe that he wouldn’t say that in the first place.

“Then why didn’t you freaking say so?!”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” he says slowly, unsure as said feelings were already hurt.

An awkward silence falls on them both.

Then it hits him. It’s as if the absurdity of their situation and the sincerity of his words had doused Ace with clarity.

He’d grossly overreacted. Over nothing.

It didn’t sound silly until Sabo said it out loud. Ace had essentially ratted himself out on something as weak and as stupid as wanting to be hugged and touched. He threw a fucking tantrum over being denied simple physical contact, and it only happened because his body heat is too much for the weather. In his mind’s eye, he could see a hot iron brand with the words ‘NEEDY’ looming over his forehead.

It’s been years since he felt that awful surge of embarrassment overcome his pride. The toxic heat crawls up his neck and burns the sides of his face. His ears feel like they’re on fire and maybe they are quite literally.

Shit. He doesn’t know who he’s angrier at, himself or Sabo, but he does know he needs to finish leaving because he might actually burst into flames.

Forget the hat, he’ll come back for it later after a strategic retreat.

A quick hook of his fingers on his belt loops intercepts him from his escape.

“Nope, no, you’re not going anywhere,” Sabo states firmly.

“Let go!” Ace hollers.

“We’re going back to bed and we’re gonna fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix!”

“Sure there is, I owe you cuddles.”

“Aagh! How could you say that with a straight face, you- _ugh_!”

He wheezes as the wind is knocked out of him, and his feet are off the ground. Sabo’s viciously hoisted him around the gut, lugging him to the bed. Ace furiously kicks at the air in a desperate attempt, but only succeeds in propelling them backwards on the mattress.

They wrestle, Ace clawing his way out and Sabo trying to get a hold of him before he could. All it takes is a slip on the sheets and he’s caged and locked in.

“Give up already.”

“Never!” He continues struggling in futile.

Confused, the pirate wonders why he isn’t gaining any leeway despite using his full strength and looks down to see blackened arms around his waist.

This is cheating, Sabo’s using haki, and he’s a dirty fucking cheater.

His blood is still simmering. Even his own body temperature is getting too much for Ace to handle and regardless of what he said earlier, Sabo’s determinedly stuck to him like a barnacle or a squid trying to squeeze the life out of its prey. The more he squirms, the more he’s constricted into this relentless embrace.

“Get off!”

Like the condescending jerk he is, Sabo nuzzles at his back as if he’s unbothered by Ace fighting tooth and nail to get out of his grip. “No thanks, I like it here.”

“You said it was too hot for this!” He accuses.

“Yeah, but you needed a hug.”

“Damn you, I don’t need a hug!”

Feeling his ribs creak, he curses. There’s no way he’s getting out of this without breaking something. He still has to sail back to the ship and making that journey with a broken rib would suck.

Oh, fuck it. He lost.

Collapsing, Ace internally begs the universe to send help, anything that’ll interrupt the impending Talk. He dreads it. He’s already done his share of talking, failed spectacularly at it, and look where it got him.

Sabo doesn’t give two shits about his comfort and Ace flinches when he senses him open his stupid mouth.

“Ace.”

“Don’t.”

This takes him back to when they were children, when Makino had to mediate their dumb fights and give them the proper apology script: _It’s my fault I lost my temper, I’m really sorry I hurt your feelings, will you pretty-pretty please forgive me, let’s be best friends again_ .

“The heat got to my head and I lost my temper. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

“What feelings, shut the hell up.”

Unlike Sabo, Ace didn’t know how to read or listen back then so he never learned to follow the script.

Ignoring him, he continues, “I wasn’t trying to avoid you, I didn’t mean for you take it that way.”

“Sabo,” he warns through gritted teeth.

His temples are throbbing from how caught up he was in the whirlwind of his emotions. Regardless, Ace knows that this is his fault -maybe a little of it is Sabo’s for not telling him in the first place- he should be the one apologizing since he started the fight.

Unfortunately, he’s run out of words. Not like it matters, a fat lot of good it did him today.

Laying tiredly on the pillow, his body loses whatever resistance it has left. He closes his eyes, tries to regain his breath. Sabo hasn’t let up and with all the ruckus he’s made, it’s getting harder to force the air in his lungs.

As if recognizing his defeat, the tethers loosen and he sucks in a large gulp of air. His ribs keep complaining but lithe hands smoothe over the ache. Fluttering kisses follow along the line of his back, lingering on the nape of his neck. Like a balm, it slowly relieves the tension out of his shoulders.

The kisses keep coming like he’s making up for the lack of warmth during their previous romp. The ice in his chest thaws at the gentle comfort, and he forgets why he thought Sabo didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

The remnants of his perceived rejection fade with every press of his lips on his neck and careful touches over his chest. He finds himself falling into the rhythm of his breaths, leaning against him so he could match it better. The confining hold eases away in favor of guiding their arms to rest over his stomach like a cradle, and through the heat and sweat, their skin sticks together.

It’s a pleasant feeling, a disparity from the painful tangle of insecurities his mind tripped in. This is what he’d been chasing after since they’ve locked eyes in the middle of town, what he’d been willing to wait hours on end for. He wants to sink in it for as long as it’ll last, to last him until the next time they meet.

Too bad it took them so long to get here, now it’s too late.

Sighing regretfully, he spots the growing shadows on the floor. He’s still mad at the both of them, more at himself, but he’s already ruined their day being angry.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, wincing at how it sounded more forlorn than apologetic.

He meant to apologize in detail, to abide by a time-worn script and then some, but Sabo lightly rocks them in place like he’d be waving off the remorse if his hands weren’t occupied at the moment.

“I should’ve mentioned this earlier. Koala and I made a deal that if I finished my work today, I can stay with you tomorrow.” His voice lowers, hushed as if he’s sharing a secret. “And I really wanted to stay with you tomorrow.”

Ace glances at the desk in the corner. The tower of paperwork sits neatly on top, ready and done. Sabo’s coat is still on the chair, carelessly draped in his hurry to get started with a compelling incentive in mind.

That was what he was working so hard for.

Well, that’s...

His chest swells like a balloon waiting to pop, and he turns to hide his face on the pillow. Mouth struggling to contain a smile, he’s trying very hard not to get swept away in the tidal wave of pure, stupid delight. Despite that, his insides are melting into a gooey, buttery mess and he hates it, hates it, hates it.

“...yeah?”

“Yeah,” he whispers timidly. “You know. If you still want to.”

“I dunno,” he muses with a slight drawl. “I wasn’t planning on sleeping over. Let me think about it.”

Sabo scoffs lightly and retracts his limbs, displeased.

Ace lasts five seconds of feigned indifference before twisting to look at him. He watches as blue eyes narrow at him with mock skepticism but the small jut of his lower lip and the redness in his cheeks tell him that he’s expecting a response.

“You had no plans to spend the night with me.” Sabo asks dubiously.

“None at all.” Flicking at a damp blonde curl, he hums as if seriously contemplating the decision. “You should have told me sooner.”

Call him petty, but it’s small revenge for snubbing him the majority of the day without telling him why.

A laugh threatens to escape as he drags on the act, coyly twirling the strand around his finger. Sabo’s eye twitches and he can see that he’s getting annoyed but who knows, it could just be the heat again. What with their flaring tempers, and all.

Dryly, Sabo mutters, “don’t think too hard now, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Oh, the irony.

Ace makes an exception and lets that one slide.

“Alright, I guess,” he answers with heavy burden. “Wouldn’t want to put all that effort to waste.”

“How very kind of you.”

“Aren't I.”

Sliding his hand over his bangs and then moving to slick his hair back, he’s about to demonstrate how far his kindness can go. Maybe they can restart what they’ve finished and end it properly this time now that the problem’s been resolved.

He’s about to lean in when he catches himself on newly vacated space.

“Wait a sec.”

Growling, Ace throws an accusing glare at the other as he kneels to crack open the window above the bed. Judging from that cheeky smile, he totally did that on purpose.

“What, we should’ve done that the first time.” Sabo makes an exaggerated gesture of making himself comfortable on the sheets then opens his arms in the air like a fool. “Okay, ready.”

Ace stares at him, unimpressed. Mood sufficiently killed, he turns his back to him again.

Sabo snickers at him but follows quickly, lining their sides together once more.

The refreshing breeze runs through their humid skin, covering them like a cool blanket. Realizing the strain on his emotional capacity, fatigue sets in and keeps Ace’s mind safely anchored. Combined with the comforting weight on his back, he’s easily lulled to sleep.

Yawning, he blindly reaches behind him so he could fold their arms over his middle. He feels a small kiss placed on his shoulder and he smiles a little.

He knows that when he wakes, night will have fallen and the rest of the day will have long set.

But that’s alright, they still have tomorrow. 

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda hate how tsundere Ace turned out in this fic but I wanted to show how emotionally vulnerable and dumb he gets with the people he loves without it turning into a ten chapter essay. 
> 
> Thank you to everybody who have supported my writing! Your kudos, comments, and bookmarks give me a giant boost of motivation and keep me warm and cozy during writer's block!


End file.
